Before She Came Home
by Batmankixbum
Summary: What if, in an alternate universe, when Kuvira's giant laser blew the airbenders out of the sky, a certain beifong isn't as okay as expected. What will Bolin do ? Bopal.


**A/N: I would like to state before hand that I love Opal. Not sure why I felt the urge to write this, but I kinda wanted to explore some of the what ifs of this couple. What if, in an alternate universe, things went a little different? And maybe Opal wasn't all that okay? Feel free to let me know what you think. :')**

Bolin could remember a lot of things clearly. He could remember their first date, and that cute way she was dressed all casual. With a couple flowers in her hair. He remembered her laugh, and how he could just drown in the sound, so he would try harder and harder to make her laugh again. Just so he could drown some more. Her light, airy presence. The sweet blossom smell she had so naturally. The way her bare neck taunted him, and made him want his lips to be there. How her small Hands perfectly cocooned into his. And the way she smiled at him and the sun hit her eyes, that day before she left. They glimmered yellow speckles from the sunlight, enhancing that dazzling green as she laughed at his humor. And the way she stopped to look at him, like she was thinking the same thing.

The gentle brushing of fingertips… And how something so small.. Could mean so much.

The way she nuzzled her head in his neck, as if to say, I know you'll protect me. Even though she didn't really need protecting. She'd let him anyway if the time came.

He remembered her soft hair, and how it brushed his face the first time they shared a bed, and it tickled his nose. Or how it would gently blow in the wind and somehow magically go back into place.

The way the sheets delicately tangled around her legs, as pale, blinding light spilled onto her sleeping figure in the quiet of morning. Her face was so peaceful, so still. But held so much inside, such personality. Like when she'd wake and she'd do something silly like hit him with a pillow, or jump on him when he wasn't looking and sneak a kiss and make his cheeks heat up with happiness. Her uncontrollable laughter when he'd attack her with a tickle war and her face would scrunch up as she'd try to get away, and then end it all with a single kiss on the lips.

That expression, eternally etched onto her face. The expression of shock, of fear, of what's to come. That this time would be the last time, because you failed. The hint of acceptance on her face that made it all the worse. That they could never be together again. That tiny tear that flew away from her face and so perfectly splat onto his face like it was supposed to mean something. Hands reaching. To be together again. To go to bed again. To cuddle again. To drown in her laugh again, to hear her brilliant mind tell him all about 'this' or 'that' again. This wasn't supposed to happen. And her face, usually so calm, so sweet, did not look calm anymore.

Her face seemed to fall blank, but her eyes locked onto his. Never leaving as she left him.

Was she disappointed in him? Did her heart drop when she found out that Bolin was too late? That she'd never see him again and start a life with him? No more kisses no more dinners no more holidays or quiet mornings.

The giant machine that Kuvira rode blew the airbenders out of the sky, but it had particularly taken a giant chunk out of her airsuit, and she was soon spiraling downward.

It took a few seconds to process she couldn't ascend upward. She panicked and gasped, her voice lost. Her arms splayed upwards reaching for, anything. But there was nothing. She didn't want to think of what was below her in the few seconds she seemingly had left. Her eyes began to water at the velocity and fear.

Bolin appeared, crisp against the blue sky. Her heart jumped in her chest at the sight. He reached out his hand, and she desperately reached hers out to meet his. Their fingertips brushed for a mere second. Everything seemed to start moving in slow motion. Her eyes locked onto his as she watched his face drop. Her tear finally escaped her bottom lid as she watched it land perfectly on his cheek as he became further away. Their fingertips were no longer brushing. Her arm was still extended out to him, hoping he'd catch it. His arm began to flex as he desperately tried extending it just a little bit further. Opal couldn't stop watching his face as it filled with dread and he fell away into the sky. Further away from her.

He had launched himself through the air using the earth to catapult himself to Opal's mid air crisis. He hoped to grab her and land on the rooftop nearby. He felt the brush of their fingertips. How her hand so desperately wanted to grab onto his, as she looked at him to save her and to go home again.

But the look on her face told him she knew. That soft hair, those bright eyes, that blossom smell, that brilliant mind… All of it, was leaving him just out of reach. Everything to him, would disappear in an instant. And there was nothing he could do. Bolin landed on the rooftop, alone. And as he scurried to the edge he caught one last glance at her.

Her eyes never left his, her face, eternally etched into his memory. Her face was still graceful, still beautiful, one last time. As she left him.

He watched Kai ascend downward, rushing to get to the ground before her. He tried last minute creating and air cushion to break her fall. She fell right through, being her momentum and speed were too drastic. But maybe…

Bolin made his way to the ground. He pushed through everyone on his way as he saw her lay there, limp with blood spattered lips. He took her in his arms and sat ,bringing her into his lap. He was next to Kai, the only other who saw her fall. He held her head gently to meet his gaze. Her eyes were slits. He could just barely see her emerald eyes showing through, but they were dull. They were not the same as before.

"Opal…please." He said quietly. His eyes began to moisten. He noticed her cheek where a dried line of a tear once was, and instinctive touched that wet spot on his face where her tear hit him. The liquid came off on his fingertips, and he looked again at her emotionless face again. Terrified that the tear was the last remnant of her living self and was already drying onto his skin.

"Don't-" he struggled to say. He let go of her head to watch it fall limp to the side.

"Don't go, Opal. Please don't leave me-" his voice wavered has he tried to keep composure, before breaking down, letting his head rest in the nook of her shoulder and breaking down into uncontrollable sobs, her lifeless body lay limp in his arms as he squeezed it. Trying to hug her knowing he wouldn't get one in return.

"Please Opal I know you're in there…" He sobbed, "please! Opal! You're not gone, we're gonna go home remember? We're going home… we're going home."

Bolin had found a crawl space between a few rocks and took her body there and hid with her, keeping her body safe. Hoping a miracle could save her. Anything. He waited and waited and waited, until the fight was over. He held her body, trying to hum to her like he would during her nightmares. Maybe he was having a nightmare. He spent moments stroking her hair, before mako found him. Mako, seeing the scene widened his eyes at the sight. His stomach sunk as he watched his brother sob over her body, cradling it.

Mako decided to call in a medical team, and sat quietly with his brother in the mean time. Bolin had a fit when they tried to take her onto the stretcher, eventually to the point where they let him leave with them to get him to stop.

The funeral was worse. Aside from the hysterical crying from her family, and the new mute state of her mother who wouldn't speak for months, the large stone that said Opal Beifong taunted Bolin, forcing him to accept that his everything no longer existed but inside his mind. That she would be 19 forever. Bolin spent a majority of time at the graveyard. He'd sleep alone, he'd awaken alone, he'd eat alone for years. Bolin went many years alone before moving on. And while he was still the loving spirit he always was, he was never the same. Bolin remembered a lot of things. And how the gentle brushing of fingertips could mean so much, like something as simple as going home.


End file.
